


Flowers for All Occasions

by Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Draco/Neville - Freeform, Dreville - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Podfic Welcome, Post-Deathly Hallows, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 21:32:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13983729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum/pseuds/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum
Summary: Four years after the end of the war, Neville Longbottom had fulfilled one of his lifelong ambitions by opening up his own flower shop — Augusta's Florists.While he's happy enough, day to day life is a little mundane - that is until none other than Draco Malfoy comes crashing into his shop.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to [ BrandonStrayne ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandonStrayne/pseuds/BrandonStrayne) for betaing this story for me. Your help is always appreciated :)

 

"Message?"

"To Gin – Happy Anniversary. Yours Always, Harry."

Neville scribbled the message down on a small card and showed it to Harry, "Is the spelling okay?"

Harry looked at the card and nodded. Neville popped the card into a small envelope and wrote 'Potter' on the front before slipping it into his pocket.

"What kind of flowers are you after?" he asked.

"Tiger lilies," smiled Harry serenely. "Same colour as her hair."

Neville nodded approvingly and set about putting Harry's order together. A lot had transpired in the four years since the boys had left Hogwarts; soon after the war had ended Harry and Ginny had gotten married, as had Ron and Hermione and a string of their other old school mates. Some were still happily married – like Harry and Ginny – others less so. Neville, meanwhile, had opted for a different kind of adventure; travelling the world with his best friend, Luna. She, in search of the fabled crumple-horned snorkack, while Neville documented and collected rare and beautiful plants to take back home to his Herbology lab. Once he had returned home, Neville had fulfilled one of his lifelong ambitions by opening up his own flower shop — Augusta's Florists — selling both Muggle flowers and exotic magical hybrids of his own creation for all occasions.

Neville quickly assembled Harry's order and secured the small card atop the bouquet. He handed it over to Harry and asked, "What do you think?"

"Yeah brilliant," he smiled pulling out his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"Five Galleons and nine Knuts, please," replied Neville.

Harry counted out the coins and handed them over to Neville, "How have you been keeping anyway? It's been ages since we last saw you."

Neville shrugged, "I'm doing well enough. The shop keeps me busy."

"You'll need to come over for dinner soon," Harry suggested.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," smiled Neville.

"Gin was thinking of having a dinner party in a couple weeks' time," Harry continued. "Get a catch up with the old crew."

"Oh?" asked Neville. "Who's all going?"

"Ron and Hermione, Seamus and Dean, Luna and Rolf, George and Angelina…" Harry rattled off.

"An awful lot of couples are going," Neville pointed out stiffly.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry murmured then shrugged. "You're more than welcome to bring a date if you like?"

Neville snorted, "I don't think that's likely, but I appreciate the offer."

Harry frowned, "Why not?"

"Running a florists doesn't allow me much of a social life outside of these four walls," he sighed. "I'll still come anyway. It'll be good to catch up with everyone."

Harry smiled again, "Great, I'll owl you the details. If you do find a date, they're welcome to join us."

"Appreciate it, Harry," said Neville waving him out of the shop. Harry waved the bouquet at Neville and exited the shop, the doorbell tinkling as he opened the door and stepped out onto the busy street.

Neville sighed and slouched into the wicker chair behind the counter. While he'd appreciated Harry's offer, Neville was growing sick and tired of being the only third wheel at all of his friends’ dinner parties. Not that he was desperately searching for the great love of his life — sure, he'd had a few exotic encounters during his travels around the world and a couple boyfriends here and there, but nothing that ever lasted more than a few dates. He was always too busy wrapped up in his work to have time for romance. And if he were perfectly honest with himself he'd never met anyone he'd actually wanted to really be in a relationship with. His commitment to his plants and flowers had always been more fruitful than any relationship he'd ever had.

That said, it could get very lonely in the shop and at home. It would be nice to share his life with someone who appreciated the beauty in the same things he did.

"Meow."

A large white lump of fur hopped gracefully onto Neville's lap and purred loudly. Neville smiled and scratched his pet kneazle behind her ear.

"Maybe you could be my date for the dinner party, eh Tallulah? Not like I've got suitors lined outside the door," he joked. The kneazle yeowled happily and swished her lightly plumed tail against his leg. _Well at least I have Tallulah for company,_ he thought sadly, knowing full well that a pet was no substitute for a person.

The shop bell tinkled to announce the arrival of another customer. Tallulah hopped off of Neville's lap as he rose to his feet, his helpful smile already plastered on his face as a tall, dark haired man approached the counter. He was vaguely familiar but Neville couldn't place him, though he thought he'd be handsome if he wasn't so grim-faced.

"Morning," said the man roughly.

"Good morning sir," replied Neville brightly. "How can I help you today?"

"I need flowers," he muttered.

Neville suppressed a smirk, "Well then you've come to the right place, sir. What type of flowers are you looking for?"

The man shrugged, his hands stuffed deep in his jean pockets, "What kind do you get someone if you're trying to apologise to them?"

Neville thought for a moment, "Then I'd recommend hyacinths and tulips. But if it's for a significant other you can't go wrong with roses."

"Roses then," the man grunted pulling out his wallet.

"What colour?" asked Neville.

"What?" asked the man distractedly.

"What colour of roses would you like?" asked Neville a little more firmly.

The man shrugged, "Whatever. Red, I suppose."

Neville wasn't all that surprised that this man had managed to rub his significant other the wrong way if this was his general demeanour. Neville forced a smile and asked politely, "What message would you like on the card?"

The man thought for a moment, "Just say, 'Please forgive me, I miss you. Owl me. Theo.'"

Neville scribbled the message down and showed it to the man to check the spelling. He nodded in approval then asked, "You do deliveries?"

"Yes sir," Neville nodded. "Who am I delivering the flowers to?"

"Malfoy," the man replied gruffly. "Draco Malfoy."

Neville's hand paused over the parchment for the briefest of moments then he scribbled the name down, although there was really no need to. He wasn't going to forget this any time soon.

Neville smiled, "Including the cost of the flowers and delivery, the total comes to nine Galleons and seventeen Knuts, sir."

The man counted out the money and tossed it carelessly onto the counter. Just then Tallulah hopped on to the counter and hissed at the man.

"Tallulah, no!" Neville scolded scooping the cat up in his arms, "Sorry about that sir, she's usually very good with customers."

The man glared at the kneazle as it hissed and swiped at him. He shrugged and said thickly, "No problem. When will the flowers be delivered?"

"I'll get them sent out this afternoon," Neville huffed struggling to keep the kneazle restrained; it was desperate to escape his grip and launch itself at the man. The man seemed to sense this and quickly left the shop without another word. As he slammed the shop door shut behind him Neville dropped Tallulah. She landed gracefully on her feet and stared up at him placidly. Neville glared at her.

"What was that all about?" he asked her hotly. She just swished her tail and looked up at him blankly. Neville rolled his eyes and warned her, "If you're going to be attacking customers you'll need to stay up in the flat during the day."

The cat yeowled in displeasure and stalked off to hide in the store cupboard. Neville set about getting Malfoy's order ready; a simple bouquet of red roses with smatterings of baby breath tied together with a long, black ribbon.

Draco Malfoy. There was someone Neville never thought he'd cross paths with again. As he prepped the order he thought back to what Malfoy had been like during their school days. Those weren't fond memories, but he was curious how he had changed, if at all, in the years since. Neville certainly wasn't the same awkward schoolboy he was during their school days. The war and his travels had instilled a lot more confidence and self-esteem in him. He wondered if Malfoy had grown up any, too.

 _Doubt it_ , he mused darkly.

Once the bouquet was ready, he instructed his grey owl to take the bouquet and card to Malfoy Manor, but not to expect a tip, promising to give her a special treat when she got home. The rest of the day was uneventful and Tallulah seemed to have taken Neville's warning to heart because she behaved in a perfectly respectful cat-like manner for all of his other customers. Just as Neville was about to close up the shop for the night, the doorbell tinkled and he turned, his shop-front smile already fixed on his face. His smile quickly fell as he saw none other than Draco Malfoy storm up to his counter with the bouquet of red roses in his fist.

Neville jumped a little as Malfoy slammed the flowers down on the counter with such force that the head of one of the roses fell off and rolled across the table.

"Longbottom?" he asked incredulously. "Did you deliver these flowers to my house?"

"Y-yes," he stuttered. For a moment he felt like the same bumbling, insecure schoolboy again under Malfoy's furious gaze. "Is there a problem with the flowers?"

"Problem?" he spat. "Bloody right there's a problem. The man who sent these to me is an absolute cretin who won't take no for an answer!"

Neville wasn't entirely sure what Malfoy was talking about. He looked absolutely livid, with his teeth bared and his blonde hair falling all over his face, brushing against his usually pale cheeks which were now flushed pink. Although this was the first time they'd seen each other since their schooldays, he couldn't deny that Malfoy was looking fit. Very fit, in fact, even if he was in the throes of a rage. Neville felt a slight stirring in his crotch and immediately admonished himself, _now is not the time for Merlin's sake._

"I want to make something very clear, Longbottom — if he comes back here and tries to deliver more flowers to my house, you tell him to fuck off!" he yelled.

"Well, I can't really swear at customers…" Neville protested weakly.

"I don't care!" cried Malfoy slapping his palm on the counter. "You'll just make an exception in my case! It's no less than he deserves!"

Neville cleared his throat and said lightly, "I'm sorry if the flowers were not to your satisfaction. If you would like to fill in one of our customer satisfaction cards, we'll endeavour to improve our service in the future."

Neville slid a piece of parchment across the counter towards Malfoy. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Are you taking the piss?"

"No," he replied.

 _Maybe a little bit,_ he thought.

Malfoy straightened up and ran his hand through his hair, breathing hard. "You know what? Forget the message," he slammed a fistful of Galleons on the counter. "I would like to place an order, please."

"Uh, sure," said Neville slowly. He didn't like where this was going. "What kind of flowers would you like?"

"What would you send to someone who is an insensitive, useless prick?" he growled.

Neville thought for a moment, "I recommend tansy, foxglove and meadowsweet."

Draco huffed, "And what flowers would you send to someone who can't keep their dick in their trousers?"

 _Ahh,_ thought Neville. The Galleon dropped.

"I'd probably send back the flowers he sent you with the flower heads cut off. That'd probably get the message across," Neville mused. "Alternatively, I'd send yellow carnations."

"Yellow carnations are fine," Malfoy grumbled.

Neville nodded, "What type of bouquet would you like?"

Malfoy's eyes glinted maliciously, "I don't want a bouquet. I want a floral tribute that spells out my message."

"Like the type you get at funerals?" asked Neville frowning.

"Exactly," he smirked.

"Okay," said Neville surprised, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. "What would you like the message to read?"

"Go fuck yourself, Theodore," he spat viciously.

Neville paused before writing it down and warned, "You know that's going to be very expensive."

"Money is no object!" cried Malfoy pounding his fist on the counter again, causing the dismembered rose head to bounce and roll onto the floor.

"I appreciate that but…perhaps something a little shorter would be equally effective?" he suggested cautiously. "And it'll be less of a dent in your pocket?"

Malfoy thought for a moment then relented, "Alright, just have it spell out 'fuck you'. In capital letters, please."

"Okay," said Neville scribbling down the message. "F-U-C-K-Y-O-U."

Neville showed him the card to confirm the spelling was correct. Malfoy nodded curtly and spat, "Perfect."

"Is it for someone special?" asked Neville lightly trying to suppress a grin.

"Very funny, Longbottom!" shouted Malfoy. "Just get my order ready, I'm in a hurry!"

"Alright, but it's going to take about half an hour to get it finished," Neville warned.

Malfoy groaned, "I can't wait that long!"

"Well either you wait or you buy something smaller, because that's how long it's going to take," Neville explained coolly.

Malfoy glared, "I could easily take my business elsewhere."

"Fine," he shrugged. "You can take your business round to Floriblunders if you want, but they'll tell you the same thing — it's at least a thirty minute wait for such a large order."

"Well are they cheaper than you?" bit Malfoy.

"Yes," he admitted. "But I'm better."

Malfoy hesitated then slumped down into one of the customer chairs by the shop window, arms crossed and fuming. Neville took that to mean that he was to proceed with the order and began to construct the large, obscene floral tribute.

Malfoy watched Neville silently for a while. Neville felt his skin prickle under his intense gaze, but he kept his composure and focused on the task at hand.

"So how come you're stuck in a flower shop, Longbottom?" asked Draco huffily. "I thought you were out travelling the world looking for weird plants."

"I'm not stuck here, Malfoy," said Neville defensively without looking up. "This is my business, I chose to do this."

"Really?" he drawled looking about the shop with mild disdain. "You chose this over the rest of the world?"

"Yes I did," he replied hotly. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Malfoy shrugged nonchalantly. "Just making polite conversation."

"Well, you're making conversation, I'll say that much," Neville retorted.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and was silent for a few moments before speaking again, "Did you not enjoy travelling?"

"I did enjoy it," replied Neville without elaborating.

"So how come you came back here?" he drawled. "Get lost and stumbled back here by accident?"

Neville slammed his shears down on the counter and glared at Malfoy, "My grandmother died last year while I was abroad. I had to cut my trip short to come back to take care of my parents."

"Oh," Malfoy's cheeks flushed pink and he averted his gaze. "I didn't realise."

"Well, now you do," Neville retorted, picking up the shears and resuming his work.

Malfoy was quiet again but only for a few moments, "How come you didn't name the shop after yourself?"

"You're awfully chatty today, aren't you?" Neville pointed out.

"I'm just trying to be polite!" Malfoy bit, looking affronted.

"That'll be a first," Neville muttered darkly.

Malfoy glared, "Do you talk to all of your customers like this?"

"Nope," Neville snipped. "Just you."

Malfoy opened his mouth as though to say something but closed it and slumped back into his chair looking despondent. Neville glanced at Malfoy and paused — he looked as though he were about to cry. His stomach twisted unpleasantly with guilt at how short he had been with him before. It occurred to Neville then that perhaps Malfoy's angry outbursts disguised the fact that he was really hurt by whatever this man had done. Not that he should care, Malfoy was a prick. He glanced at Malfoy again and against his better judgement felt more sympathetic than annoyed at the man. He sighed and put down his shears and flowers and conjured two cups of tea. He passed one of the cups to Malfoy who looked at it uncertainly for a moment before accepting it.

"Thanks," he muttered quietly. Neville sat in the chair next to Malfoy and they drank their tea in silence.

"Augusta was my grandmother's name," Neville explained. "I named the shop after her."

"Oh," said Malfoy quietly. "That's nice."

"I thought she'd like it," he smiled sadly. He glanced at Malfoy, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," replied Malfoy automatically. Neville raised an eyebrow at him and his shoulders sagged, "Well, I've been better."

"Do you…want to talk about it?" asked Neville tentatively.

"What's to say?" he shrugged, staring fixedly at his cup as he spoke. "Two years I've put up with his shite. All his lies and broken promises. We'd fight and break up, then he'd apologise and I'd be stupid enough to believe he'd changed and take him back. But this time…this time was the last straw."

Neville shifted uncomfortably. It was a surreal situation to be in, sitting here with Malfoy of all people pouring his heart out to him.

"You know at one point I really thought we were going to get married." Malfoy confided in him. "But I think I've known for a long time that this was going to end badly. I just tried my best to ignore it for as long as possible. My mother still loves him, of course — if only she knew half the shit he got up to, it'd be a different story."

"Maybe you should speak to your mother about it then," Neville suggested taking a sip of his tea. "She'd make for a more sympathetic ear than me."

Malfoy pulled a face, "It's not really the sort of subject one speaks to their own mother about."

"Then why are you speaking to me about this?" asked Neville curiously.

"Because I've already talked the ear off of Pansy on more than one occasion and she won't want to hear it again," Malfoy admitted, then he shrugged. "And…I suppose you're easy to talk to."

"Oh," replied Neville in surprise. "Aren't you worried I'll tell people what you said?"

Malfoy shrugged again and gave a small smile, "Even if you did, they'd never believe you."

"Fair point," laughed Neville softly.

"Meow."

Without warning Tallulah hopped onto Malfoy's lap. Malfoy jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of the kneazle which was kneading his lap to make it more comfortable to settle down on.

"Tallulah, no," groaned Neville setting his cup down on the small table in front of him. "Sorry, she's been an absolute menace today. I'll get rid of her."

"No it's fine," said Malfoy giving the kneazle a pet. "I don't mind."

"You like kneazles?" asked Neville surprised.

"Oh yeah, I had one when I was little," Malfoy was scratching Tallulah behind the ears and she was purring happily. "She's quite unusual in her appearance, isn't she? Usually they're spotted or striped, I've never seen a pure white one before."

"Yeah, I don't know where she came from. She was my grandmother's originally — she bought her to keep her company while I was away travelling," Neville explained.

Tallulah was flipping her tail up and down Malfoy's leg, nuzzling into his outstretched hand. Neville watched them curiously for a few moments. It was strange enough to discover that Malfoy was a cat person, stranger still that Tallulah seemed to have taken a shine to Malfoy. He had expected her to have clawed him half to death by now, yet here she lay, outstretched on the man's lap purring like a kitten.

After they had finished their tea Neville vanished the cups and slipped back behind the counter to complete the floral arrangement while Malfoy continued to absentmindedly pet Tallulah.

"So what about yourself?" asked Neville. "What have you been up to since we left school?"

"Well, I went back to Hogwarts to repeat my seventh year," he explained.

Neville nodded, "I know a few people who did that, but Hermione said it wasn't the same when she returned."

Malfoy nodded sadly, "I needed to go back to get my N.E.W.T.S. but everyone was still trying to deal with the war ending. The atmosphere was pretty tense."

"Are you glad you went back, though?" asked Neville.

Malfoy shrugged, "I suppose. Got enough qualifications so I could join the Aurors."

Neville raised his eyebrows surprised, "You're an Auror?"

A small smile crept along his lips, "You're not the first one to look surprised by that. My father thought it was an awful idea, but I wanted to challenge myself. And honestly, I thought I'd be good at it."

Neville huffed, "Plenty of experience in the company of Dark wizards."

"Exactly," agreed Malfoy. "I'll never be the clean-cut poster boy of the department like Potter is, but I can bring certain skills and experience to the job that he can't. They need people like me there whether they like it or not."

"Very true," admitted Neville. "You enjoy the work?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "There's never a dull day at least."

They chatted for a long while after Neville had completed the order, mostly about work and what they had done in the years since they had left school. Malfoy seemed quite keen to hear about Neville's adventures abroad, and Neville enjoyed relaying the stories to fresh ears. They were getting on so well that Neville didn't even notice that the street lights on Diagon Alley had come on and the shop was shrouded in darkness. He swished his wand and the candles illuminated the shop in a soft, warm light. Malfoy looked a lot calmer now than he had done earlier. Neville couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked, his sharp features softened in the dim candlelight.

Shaking his head clear of those distracting thoughts he glanced at his watch and laughed, "I was supposed to close the shop over an hour ago."

"In that case I should get my order for free since you've made me wait so long," drawled Malfoy, but there was a hint of teasing in his voice. Neville held up the finished product for Malfoy's perusal. It really was obscene looking — acidic purples, reds and yellows spelt out the foul greeting.

"It's wonderfully vulgar Longbottom, well worth the wait," he nodded in approval and pulled out his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"Twenty three Galleons and seven Sickles," said Neville politely. Malfoy began counting out the money and Neville glanced at the floral arrangement. "So you're still going through with it? The delivery of the flowers?"

Malfoy paused. He looked between the floral arrangement and Neville then shrugged, "I might…I'm not sure now. My rage has tempered somewhat from earlier on."

Neville sighed, "If you're not sure about sending them, then I wouldn't if I were you. You'll probably regret it."

"Probably," he muttered. "Even though he deserves it."

"If he's as bad as you say he is then he doesn't deserve the time that you're musing over him," Neville argued.

Malfoy sighed heavily and ran a hand through his white-blonde hair and it flopped to one side. Neville felt his stomach do a small backflip as Malfoy's hair splayed over his face, giving the normally perfectly put-together man a just-shagged look. He said nothing for a moment, deep in thought. Then he sat the money on the table and grabbed the floral tribute muttering, "Thanks for the flowers, Longbottom."

He turned to leave without another word. Opening the door he paused and looked over his shoulder at Neville with a serious expression, "If you tell anyone I just said that to you, I'll vehemently deny it."

Neville laughed softly, "Your secret's safe with me."

The corners of Malfoy's lips quirked a little like he was going to smile, but he looked like he was forcing his face to remain passive, neutral. He gave Neville a curt nod and exited the shop.

Neville watched after Malfoy until he disappeared out of sight. Tallulah hopped onto the counter and nudged Neville's hand.

"It's been a very strange day, Tallulah," he mused while he clapped her. Seeing Malfoy after so many years, and actually having a civil conversation with him...Hell must have frozen over. Neville locked the shop door and closed the blinds, ready to head up to bed. His eyes lingered on the pile of unused flowers and wiring he had used to make Malfoy's floral tribute and was struck with an odd compulsion. He gathered up another frame and began constructing a brand new floral tribute, feverishly adorning it with Moly flowers, aconite, miniature umbrella flowers and carnations and adding a smattering of bewitched fairies around the edges to illuminate it. When he was done he took a step back and smiled mischievously.

"Perfect," he muttered.

He took the floral tribute which read 'FUCK OFF' and placed it with pride of place in the shop window for all the world to see and enjoy.

* * *

Neville lay in bed that night mulling over his and Malfoy's strange reintroduction. Even though Malfoy was a horrible, bullying prat at school, Neville wasn't blind to his good looks. He had secretly harboured a crush on Malfoy during their school days, though his attraction had always been laced with shame and guilt. He thought he'd left those complicated feelings behind after they'd left Hogwarts, but they hit him anew today. But Neville was no fool — Malfoy's looks hadn't changed much, and he very much doubted his personality had either, even if they had just spent a surprisingly fun evening together. Neville mentally berated himself for thinking about the man, but his mind continuously returned to the image of Draco smiling and brushing his long, blonde hair through his fingertips.

 _Nothing wrong with looking though,_ he thought tentatively. Neville unconsciously brushed his fingers gently over the outline of his growing erection, his breaths growing deeper as his imagination flitted between brief sexual encounters he'd had during his travels. Only this time each man morphed into a tall blonde with piercing grey eyes, smirking over him.

Neville sighed and gave in. Pulling his boxers passed his thighs he grasped his cock in his hand, giving it a few quick strokes. He closed his eyes and resigned himself to imagining being on top of Malfoy. Neville's cock twitched at the mere thought of feeling all that taut, pale skin against his own body, of Malfoy wrapping his legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He imagined the lust in Malfoy's steel-grey eyes as he tilted his head back and moaned Neville's name, his white-blonde hair splaying over the pillow. He felt lightheaded imagining with each upward thrust of his hips he was taking Malfoy deeper…

Neville's body tensed. He gave a deep groan and pushed into his fist a couple more times as he came, pulsing over his own fingers and stomach. Feeling the tension leave his body he quickly spelled away his release and sighed, a combination of post-orgasmic bliss and weariness at his abysmal taste in men.

It wasn't the first time Neville had wanked over Malfoy, and it wouldn't be the last. He told himself that in a couple of days he'll have forgotten all about the man again. It would probably be another four years before their paths even crossed again. Neville tried not to think too much on it.


	2. Chapter 2

The new floral tribute drew quite the crowd the next morning. Despite a few disparaging looks, the new display was a popular attraction. A lot of people laughed when they saw it, and George Weasley liked it so much that he requested his own tribute for the joke shop that read 'Bollocks'.

Later that afternoon Neville spotted Malfoy walking up the street. He glanced towards the shop, did a double take and stopped dead in his tracks before walking up to the display, frowning. He peered into the window and Neville, trying to look busy, gave him a casual wave. Malfoy smirked broadly and nodded at Neville before sauntering away up the street. A little bubble of pleasure in Neville's chest seemed to inflate at Malfoy's response, pleased that he had amused him.

Later the next day the shop bell tinkled lightly and Malfoy entered the shop again. Neville smiled and nodded, "Malfoy."

"Longbottom," Malfoy greeted him as he approached the counter.

"So did Theo like his flowers?" asked Neville lightly.

Malfoy lowered his gaze and laughed, "I never gave them to him, actually. I took on board what you said about wasting time on people that don't deserve it. Sending them would have just dragged things out even longer, so thanks for the advice."

Neville gave a sincere smile, "Not a problem. So, what did you end up doing with the flowers?"

"I sat them at the front gate by the Manor," he smirked. "My mother was furious when she found out, but I thought it was funny."

Neville laughed and asked, "So what'll it be today? Another fuck off? A drop dead, perhaps?"

Malfoy's cheeks tinged pink and he smiled, "No, nothing like that…"

Malfoy stood awkwardly for a few moments as though he were itching to say something, but remained silent. Neville frowned, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied, avoiding Neville's gaze. "I'm just here to…" His voice trailed off, then he sighed, "I'm just here to buy flowers."

Neville blinked. "Yes, we certainly have those in abundance here."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "Are you always this cheeky to your customers?"

"Only to you," quipped Neville and Malfoy smirked. "So what are you after today?"

"Just a dozen red roses," said Malfoy and Neville felt the little bubble of happiness he'd been carrying in his chest deflate a little. Clearly Malfoy was in buying flowers because he was going on a date.

Neville put on his smile, "Sure thing. Just give me a minute and I'll whip that up for you."

Neville assembled the order as quickly as possible while Malfoy hovered by the counter. He berated himself for feeling disappointed by this news — what else was he expecting? Of course Malfoy's going on a date, look at him, he's bloody gorgeous. Just not with you, obviously. And why would he? You're just daft, bumbling Neville—

"That's an interesting sign you've got in the window there," said Malfoy, snapping Neville out of his rambling thoughts.

"I'm glad you like it," Neville replied, tying a ribbon around the roses. "Although I can't take all the credit, your obscenities inspired me. That'll be nine Galleons and seventeen Knuts."

Neville passed the flowers over and Malfoy pressed the money into his hand. Their fingers grazed a little and Neville felt a little bolt of electricity shoot up his hand and into his chest and Malfoy's mouth opened a little in surprise. They stood like that for a moment before Neville cleared his throat and broke contact, avoiding Malfoy's gaze.

Malfoy looked at Neville curiously, "You're looking a bit put out today, Longbottom. Everything alright?"

"Fine thanks," he replied a little too firmly glancing at the roses for a moment before turning to put the money in the register.

Malfoy noticed this and teased, "What's the matter, Longbottom? A boy never bought you flowers before?"

"As a matter of fact, no," he admitted.

Malfoy frowned, "You work in a florists. You're literally surrounded by flowers every day and you're saying that nobody has ever bought you flowers?"

Neville shrugged, "I suppose people don't think I'd appreciate them."

"But you would?" he asked.

"I thought that seemed fairly evident, I wouldn't be a bloody florist otherwise," said Neville coolly.

"Fair point," he muttered then gave Neville a small smile. "Well…I guess I'll see you later, then."

Neville waved him off and when Malfoy was out of sight he slumped into his chair again with a loud sigh, an inexplicable disappointment settling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

To Neville's surprise, Malfoy reappeared the very next day.

"Malfoy," he nodded.

"Longbottom," he replied. "I need condolence flowers today."

"Oh," Neville frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Malfoy shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eye, "It's not serious. My mate Blaise just got engaged, so I'm sending him condolence flowers to mourn the passing of his bachelorhood."

"Ah," Neville relaxed and smiled. "So this is your way of congratulations?"

"Suppose so," he sighed. "So what flowers would you recommend?"

This became their new routine for the next few days; Malfoy would come in and say he needed flowers for something or other. The next day he needed bouvardia's for Pansy Parkinson's baby shower. The day after that it was narcissa’s for Mother's Day. The day after that it was someone's birthday, and surely by sheer coincidence it was another person's birthday the day after that. Surely Malfoy was running out of excuses to buy flowers but Neville wasn't complaining because he enjoyed his conversations with Malfoy. He was actually starting to look forward to them. He liked the way Malfoy's face lit up when he smiled, the sultry timber of his voice, the way he casually ran his fingers through his beautiful blonde hair and it fell all over his face, and—

 _Merlin_ , thought Neville with horror. He didn't just fancy Malfoy, he actually _liked_ him. Maybe he really had spent too much time in the shop on his own.

The doorbell tinkled and Neville looked up expectantly only to feel disappointed to see it was only Harry, then immediately felt guilty for being so dismissive of his friend. Harry approached the counter with a curious expression.

"Alright Neville?" he asked.

"Good thanks," replied Neville. "How can I help you today?"

Harry paused for a moment before asking, "Neville, are you dating Malfoy?"

Neville gaped, "What makes you think that?"

"Well, he's been bringing an awful lot of flowers into the office," Harry began. "First it was just roses sitting at his desk. Now he's bringing a new bunch every day. I didn't think it was Mrs. Bell at Floriblunders — she must be pushing ninety now, plus she doesn't seem Malfoy's type. Then I thought of you."

Neville's eyes widened, "You think I'm Malfoy's type?"

"Tall, broad-shouldered and handsome? Yeah, you're his type alright," he smirked.

Neville shook his head, "I can't be though, I'm just Neville. And he's Malfoy, he's…"

 _A total git. And totally out of my league,_ he thought to himself.

Harry raised his eyebrow, "How many times has Malfoy been in the shop in the last week?"

"Uh, a few," he admitted.

"Then I would think the answer to that was fairly evident," said Harry flatly.

"Oh," Neville was slightly stunned by this revelation. He hadn't dared to even let himself wonder if that was the real reason that Malfoy had been visiting the shop so regularly, but according to Harry it was. Neville frowned, "If he likes me then why hasn't he asked me out?"

Harry shrugged, "He's nervous, I expect."

Neville scoffed, "I couldn't imagine Malfoy being nervous about anything."

"Well, turns out he's of a slightly more nervous disposition than we originally gave him credit for," Harry shrugged. "I've shared an office with him for four years and you get to know your colleagues fairly well in that time. He's…" Harry sighed heavily, looking pained to admit this, "He's actually a pretty decent guy once you get to know him. He's still an absolute git most of the time, but he's good at his job — he’s gotten me out of a few scrapes too, so he's more than earned his stripes with the Aurors. But he's always shy when it comes to people he likes."

"Huh," that was the best response Neville could muster. "I just thought he really liked the flowers."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Merlin Neville, nobody likes flowers that much."

"I do," he protested indignantly.

Harry shook his head, "Do me a favour, yeah? Either tell him you're not interested or ask him out on a date already. My office is reeking with flowers and honestly I can't stand another day of it."

Harry turned to leave.

"Harry!" called Neville.

"Yes?" asked Harry sounding exacerbated.

"If he says yes can I bring him to the dinner party on Friday?" he asked keenly.

Harry sighed, "Sure, he can come if he likes."

* * *

Neville waited nervously all afternoon for Malfoy to show up, but as the day dragged on his hopes were dashed and he convinced himself that today he wouldn't show up. But then five minutes before he was due to close the shop the doorbell tinkled and Malfoy appeared, looking as wide-eyed and nervous as Neville was.

"Hi," he greeted Neville breathlessly.

"Hello," he replied, his heart racing now. He'd been going over in his head all afternoon the conversation he would have with Malfoy. Planning strategies and contingency plans on how to successfully ask him out on a date. But at the sight of the man all tangible thoughts flew his mind. He just stared as Malfoy approached the counter with his hands tucked firmly behind his back.

"How can I help you today?" asked Neville, reverting to shopkeeper mode, his courage already failing him.

Malfoy hesitated then with a pained expression pulled something from behind his back.

It was a single white rose.

Neville stared at it.

"It's beautiful," he noted simply. "Did you purchase it from one of my competitors?"

"No," said Malfoy extending the flower to Neville. "It's from the rose garden at the Manor."

"Oh," Neville's eyes widened in surprise. He took the flower from Malfoy and looked at it closely. The stem was black with razor sharp thorns, but the snow-white petals were silky smooth to the touch. The rose reminded him of Malfoy in a lot of ways. The Malfoy he'd grown up with had always been like thorns of a rosebush with his mercilessly cutting remarks, but this man he'd gotten to know even in the last week suggested there was a hidden beauty beneath the thorny exterior.

"You're welcome to come see the gardens some time if you'd like?" he asked looking hopeful and nervous.

"Yeah," replied Neville quietly. "I'd like that."

"Would you eh, like to go out with me for dinner some time?" Malfoy spluttered, looking terrified.

"Like on a date?" asked Neville.

"If I say it is, will you say yes?" he chanced.

Neville smiled, "I would."

Malfoy visibly relaxed and smiled, "Then yes, I'm asking you out on a date.”

Neville twirled the rose thoughtfully between his fingers, "Is that why you've been coming into the shop every day?"

Malfoy's pale cheeks tinged pink, "I was going to ask you a few days ago but I lost my nerve at the last minute. I kept thinking up excuses to come see you so I could ask you again, but…"

"Did Harry speak to you by any chance?" he asked and Malfoy's cheeks burned even redder.

"Maybe. Why has he been here mouthing off about me?"

"No," Neville shook his head. "Quite the opposite. He told me I should get my act together and ask you out on a date."

Malfoy's eyes widened, "Did he now?"

Neville nodded.

"He doesn't beat about the bush, does he?" he laughed weakly.

"No, but that's what I like about him," said Neville fondly. He looked at the rose again, "I should probably put this in some water. Do you want to come upstairs for a drink?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Malfoy agreed softly. He followed Neville upstairs into his small flat, looking around it curiously while Neville busied himself in the kitchen.

"Make yourself comfortable," Neville called through to the living room. Suddenly Neville felt anxious at what Malfoy must think about his tiny flat; it was nothing like the grandeur of living in a Manor. Trying and failing to abate his nerves, he popped the rose in a vase and switched the kettle on.

"Do you want a tea?" Neville asked while pulling two cups from a shelf.

"No," said Malfoy shortly. The tone of his voice was rough and it sent a shiver of excitement up Neville's spine.

"Okay," he replied, his voice slightly high pitched. "Is there anything else, I can get you—"

He paused as he felt a warm hand rest on his hip. Neville suddenly felt lightheaded and he tentatively placed his hand on top of Malfoy's, tracing his thumb across the smooth skin. His pulse quickened as Malfoy stepped forward and pressed his body against Neville's. His breath hitched as he felt Malfoy's erection brushing against his rear.

"I want you," he whispered, his hot breath kissing the bare skin on Neville's neck. It came out sounding abrasive, but there was a tentative note in his voice, perhaps a little unsure that Neville really wanted him too.

Neville turned then and looked into Malfoy's eyes, smoky grey and full of heat and excited nervousness. He'd had sex a few times, but he'd never been quite so aroused by the simple possibility of kissing someone else like he was in this moment. He gently ran his hand through Malfoy's hair which was silky to the touch, letting it fall all over his face. Malfoy's pale eyelashes fluttered and closed, a small whimper escaped his lips as he leaned into Neville's touch. Malfoy, always barbed and on the offensive, looked completely open in this moment — vulnerable, unsure of himself…

"Beautiful," breathed Neville.

He felt the last ebb of restraint he was holding onto fall away. He cradled the nape of Malfoy's neck and leaned in, pressing their lips together and Malfoy let out a shaky breath melting into the kiss.

Malfoy's hand moved down passed Neville's hip and between his legs, and he let out an involuntary gasp as Malfoy began palming his aching erection through his jeans. This was the Malfoy that Neville knew so well — confident, passionate, wonderfully salacious…

Neville arched his back, rutting his hips against Malfoy's hand. Fisting his platinum-blonde locks and pulling him closer, he was desperate to feel every inch of Malfoy’s hard body pressed against his own. He shivered as he felt Malfoy's warm tongue trace along his bottom lip and he whispered, "I want to taste you."

Neville groaned, the mere thought of Malfoy's lips around his cock was almost too much to bare. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold out for long. Malfoy dropped to his knees and quickly unzipped Neville's jeans. His breath hitched as Malfoy roughly pulled his boxers and jeans to his ankles. This wasn't gentle; it was raw, urgent, impassioned. It was pure lust. Malfoy's hands ran up Neville's thighs and rested on his hips, his lips mere inches from Neville's throbbing cock. His hot breath tantalizingly licked at Neville's bare skin and his cock twitched at the sensation. Malfoy smirked, giving Neville's hips a light squeeze before he slowly ran the flat of his tongue up Neville's shaft and swiped the bead of pre-come that formed at the tip. He bit his lip hard to suppress the moan that was trying to escape his throat, but his thighs shook as Malfoy continued to lap at his cock over and over again.

The sensation was so intense that Neville was struggling to catch his breath. He gripped onto the kitchen counter tightly to stop his legs from buckling under the overwhelming sensations; Malfoy's tongue lapping at the full length of his cock while his hands explored his body.

When Malfoy finally took Neville's length into his searing hot, wet mouth, Neville's panting had become ragged. He was still unable to believe the sight before him — Draco Malfoy on his knees with his mouth around his cock, and Malfoy was enjoying it. He hummed happily as he slid his wet, pink lips up and down Neville's long shaft, sucking and twirling his tongue expertly over his full length. Neville was struggling to stay upright his legs were shaking so badly now.

He moaned loudly, "Malfoy."

Malfoy paused and took Neville's cock out of his mouth.

"Draco," he said quietly, looking up at Neville.

"Wha—?" he asked feeling dizzy with arousal.

"Call me Draco," he said quietly before adding, "Please."

Neville considered the request for a moment then nodded.

"Draco," he said softly and pulled Malfoy back up onto his feet to kiss him, a little more gently than he had done previously. The kiss made his heart flutter a little, so he said it again, "Draco."

Malfoy sighed happily and kissed him again, tenderly running his hands through Neville's hair as he left a trail of kisses down the column of Neville's neck. Neville groaned with frustration, he wanted to feel more of Malfoy, wanted to see more of him, taste more of him.

"Bed," he ordered and Malfoy nodded eagerly, grabbing Neville's hand and pulling him through to the bedroom. He pushed Neville onto the bed before climbing on top of him, straddling his hips then swiftly pulled his shirt over his head to reveal an expanse of smooth pale skin. Neville's eyes widened at the sensual delight before him and instinctively reached out to touch him.

Neville slowly ran his hand down the contours of Malfoy's body, pausing as he reached the hem of his trousers. He licked his lips and looked into Malfoy's face expectantly, who began to unzip his trousers, his half-lidded gaze fixed on Neville's eyes. They quickly shed the rest of their clothes then Malfoy leaned forward and captured Neville's eager mouth in a kiss, brushing his hot, hard length against Neville's. Neville gasped at the intensity of the feeling and Malfoy smiled against his lips, shifting his body so that their cocks were aligned and began to thrust in a steady rhythm. Neville groaned louder now, cupping Malfoy's arse cheeks in his hands and pressing them closer, canting their hips together and desperately seeking more friction.

He'd fantasised about this so many times, but nothing in his mind compared to how this really felt; the ragged puffs of breath that passed between them as they explored each other's bodies with their mouths, brushing their lips across bare skin glistening with perspiration. The feel of hot, taut flesh against flesh erupting in goosebumps upon contact. The feel of their hearts beating hard in their chests as their bodies pressed against one another. Their erections slick with pre-come sliding against one another, pushing them closer and closer to their euphoric release. Everything about this moment, everything about this man above him now, was exquisite.

"Draco…" moaned Neville more loudly this time. It was just a name, but the way the words fell from Neville's lips were filled with so much longing. Malfoy seemed to sense this and slammed their lips together, running his free hand up and down Neville's sides and through his soft, strawberry-blonde locks. Neville kept kissing Malfoy soundly as their movements became more desperate, drowning in the beautiful whimpers and moans escaping Malfoy's lips.

The shuddering buildup of pleasure threatened to spill over at any moment. Malfoy whimpered and groaned, long and deep, and that pushed Neville over the edge too as he gasped, "Draco, uhhh…"

Neville abandoned pretence of keeping quiet, instead just savouring the feeling of — for once in his life — getting what he wanted and just enjoying it. His movements stuttered as he came and he threw his head back against the bed as the pleasure consumed him entirely.

Malfoy's breathing faltered and he trembled, a shudder passing through the length of his entire body as his come spilled across his and Neville's stomach. He buried his head into Neville's shoulder, panting hard. The word, "Neville…" slipped passed his lips in barely a whisper, but loud enough for Neville to hear.

They lay there for a few moments panting hard, too spent to move.

"Wow," sighed Malfoy, rolling over and lying spreadeagle on the bed. "I need to buy Potter the biggest bouquet of flowers."

Neville drew him an incredulous look, "You're talking about Harry _now?"_

"Sorry," said Malfoy quickly. "I only meant that this probably wouldn't have happened if he hadn't kicked my arse into gear."

"Fair point," sighed Neville, making a mental note to also send Harry some flowers as a thank you.

"Will you fill out a customer satisfaction card now?" asked Neville teasingly.

Malfoy laughed, "I'm definitely going to be a return customer, for as long as you'll have me."

Neville turned to look at Malfoy and found his face a few inches from his own. He looked tired but he was smiling, his hair sticking out in all directions. In Neville's opinion, the man had never looked more shaggable or gorgeous. Relief and happiness and desire blossomed in his chest and quickly spread south into his already half-erect cock. He leant forward and kissed Malfoy again, more gently this time. Malfoy sighed into the kiss and melted into his embrace, running his hands up and down Neville's body. He definitely wanted to do this again. And again and again.

Neville broke their kiss and grabbed his wand from his jeans, spelled away their release and conjured a blanket for them both.

"Thanks," said Malfoy pulling the blanket over his hips. He glanced at Neville and asked wryly, "Does this count as our first date?"

"I don't think so," Neville shook his head smiling. "We haven't had anything to eat yet."

"Of course," said Malfoy absentmindedly playing with Neville's hair. "I know usually I'm supposed to feed you first before I take you to bed…"

Neville laughed, "This was fine by me. We can still get something to eat if you want?"

"Yeah I'd like that," Malfoy smiled broadly. "I'm starving."

"Meow."

Tallulah hopped onto the bed and settled herself between Neville and Malfoy's heads, her swishing tail hitting Neville's face every so often.

"Pfft!" spat Neville pushing her tail out of his face. "Watch it!"

Malfoy laughed and patted the kneazle on the head and she purred loudly, her large grey eyes drooping.

"She only turned up after I mentioned getting food," Neville mused.

"She's a clever one, isn't she?" smiled Malfoy and Tallulah yeowled in agreement.

Malfoy and Neville quickly got dressed and ready to head out for their first proper date together. Neville scratched Tallulah behind the ear before leaving, "I promise I'll bring something nice back for you."

She meowed in response and slinked down the hall and out of sight. Malfoy grabbed Neville's hand and pulled him towards the door, "Do you like Thai food? There's a great place down the road if you fancy it?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. Speaking of dinner," asked Neville slowly. "Are you doing anything on Friday night?"

The door shut behind them with a light click.


End file.
